CHAPTER 58

Breaking Chains

The scent of damp concrete and burnt metal filled my lungs as Riley and I moved through the dimly lit corridors. The Oath facility was buried beneath a nondescript warehouse, hidden from the world like the secrets it kept. My pulse hammered in my throat, every step calculated, every breath measured.

Riley was a shadow beside me, her presence steady. She scanned the hall ahead, her sharp green eyes flickering in the low light. "Security's light," she murmured. "Too light."

She was right. This was a facility belonging to the Oath—the organization that had taken everything from me. The same organization I'd spent years tearing apart piece by piece. And yet, we had waltzed in with minimal resistance.

Something wasn't right.

We reached the archive room, a reinforced steel door standing between us and whatever they were hiding. I crouched by the keypad, my fingers flying over the small screen as I worked through the encryption. Riley kept watch, her pistol raised, finger hovering just over the trigger.

"Come on," I muttered, gritting my teeth as the system resisted me. A red warning flashed across the screen. Unauthorized attempt detected. Lockdown in sixty seconds.

Damn it.

"Riley, plan B."

She didn't hesitate. A single shot rang out, the silencer dampening the sound but not the impact. The panel sparked, and the door groaned open an inch. I jammed my fingers into the gap and forced it the rest of the way.

The room was cold, filled with rows of steel filing cabinets and a humming server in the corner. The air carried the scent of old paper and stale electricity. We didn't have time to search manually. I slid into the chair by the server and started typing.

"What are we looking for?" Riley asked, pacing as if she could feel the walls closing in.

"Anything on their relocation program. Intel on where the stolen kids are taken."

She nodded and turned to rifle through the physical files while I dug into the database. Line after line of encrypted code blurred past my eyes. Experiments. Re-education camps. Identity wipes. The Oath had turned kidnapping into an art form.

Then I saw it. Project Resurrection.

A classified list of children. Their birth records erased, their pasts rewritten. Dozens of names scrolled by, each a life stolen and reshaped into a weapon. My stomach twisted as I clicked deeper, sifting through data, until—

No.

I couldn't breathe.

Riley must've caught my reaction because she was at my side in an instant. "What?"

I couldn't answer. My hands shook as I scrolled back up, my brain refusing to process what I was seeing.

Her name. Her face.

My daughter.

She was alive.

For years, I had believed the Oath had killed her. I had mourned her, torn myself apart with guilt, told myself there was nothing left to fight for but vengeance.

But she was here. Alive.

And being trained as one of them.

Riley's breath hitched as she looked at the screen. "Nathan…"

I pushed away from the terminal, shoving a hand through my hair, my chest caving in on itself. This wasn't relief. It was terror.

They had her.

They had taken my little girl and forged her into a weapon aimed at the world.

"She doesn't know who she is," I whispered, my voice hollow.

Riley swallowed hard. "But she can."

I turned to her, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt. "They've had her for years. How much of her is even left?"

The thought made my vision blur with rage. I had spent my life bringing down monsters, but I had never considered the possibility that the biggest battle I'd ever face would be against my own child.

I forced myself to focus, scrolling further. Coordinates. There had to be coordinates.

There. A training facility—one I recognized from past missions. A remote location, deep in the mountains.

"She's there," I said, pointing at the screen. "We leave tonight."

Before Riley could respond, the overhead lights flickered. A deep mechanical groan reverberated through the walls. My stomach dropped.

"We triggered something," Riley snapped, already moving.

I grabbed the hard drive, shoving it into my bag. Then the alarms hit—sharp, piercing, echoing through the facility.

Red lights bathed the room.

"Go!"

We ran.

Footsteps thundered behind us, shouts filling the halls. Riley dropped low, firing two shots back as we rounded a corner. A guard collapsed with a grunt, another crashing into the wall.

My body moved on instinct, grabbing a fire extinguisher from the wall and hurling it down the hall. A single shot from Riley, and—boom. The hallway filled with thick white smoke, buying us seconds.

We sprinted through the corridors, my mind a war zone of rage and desperation. They weren't taking her from me again.

A metal door loomed ahead. Our exit.

Riley skidded to a stop, slamming her back against the wall. "Two guards."

I peeked out. They were armed. Tactical gear. Prepared.

I exhaled slowly, pushing down the chaos in my chest. Then I stepped into view.

The first guard barely had time to react before my fist met his throat. He staggered, choking, and I twisted his wrist, yanking the gun from his grasp. One shot to the knee, and he was down.

The second guard lunged, swinging a baton. I ducked, grabbed his collar, and used his own momentum to slam him into the wall.

Silence.

Riley raised an eyebrow. "Feeling motivated?"

I just glared, pushing the door open.

The night air hit me like a punch to the gut. Freedom. But there was no relief, no victory—not yet.

I turned to Riley, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.

"We're getting her back."

She met my gaze, unwavering. "Then let's break every chain holding her down."

My fingers curled into fists.

This wasn't just another mission.

This was war.

And I was ready to burn the whole damn world down to bring my daughter home.